


Silver Linings

by clutchesofaname



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, First Date, Fluff, High School AU, Humanstuck, Unrequited Love, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutchesofaname/pseuds/clutchesofaname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee promises to get the lowdown on Terezi's lovelife for Karkat, but sort of screws it up. So Karkat asks Nepeta out on a date in some convoluted scheme to woo Terezi. Originated from an unused roleplay idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Obligatory Exposition

“Is she in our grade?”  
                “Gamzee for the last fucking time, I’m not playing this game.”  
                “Does she have hair redder than the fuckin’ Disney princess?”  
                “Gamzee!”  
                Gamzee cackled and leaned back in his seat. His hands were splattered with paint, but he ran them through his hair anyway. Karkat sighed and turned back to his sketchbook.  
                “Karbro, I think you have the hots for Terezi.”  
                “Gamzee!”  
                His reaction only fueled Gamzee’s fire. He launched into an off-key and slowed-down version of some mundane and idiotic song about them sitting in a tree. Karkat promptly looked over to him and mustered up a death glare enough to freeze anyone in their tracks. Anyone except this stoned piece of shit.  
                “Relax Karkat—look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go and ask her how she feels about you, okay? Calm down,” he drawled. Karkat shrugged.  
                “Fine, whatever.”

 

                Except it was not fine, or whatever. Gamzee’s small promise to just talk to her, and ask how she felt lifted Karkat’s spirits immensely. However, he had to wait to find out. Because Gamzee Makara had the worst memory on the face of the planet.  
                Instead of asking in their shared Biology class, Gamzee spent the period laughing it up with other stoners. Instead of asking during lunch, he spent the whole time combining a hamburger and a hot dog- “For science.” He blew off gym to get high- nothing new, but was it so wrong to hope for a miracle? It wasn’t.  
                When Karkat asked him about it after-school, he told him to be patient. “These things take time, my man,” he said, slinging his empty backpack over his shoulder. “I said I would, I never said when. Gotta wait for when it feels right.” Karkat slammed his palm into his forehead.  
                “Look Gamzee, I’d prefer an answer sooner rather than later. So if you could hurry the fuck up and _ask_ her-“  
                “Look Karbro. You gotta relax. Go with the flow. I’ll get it done, I will. And when I do, it will be-“  
                “Say anything with the root word ‘miracle’ and I will flip my shit.”  
                “Shit son, calm down.”  
                Karkat growled in frustration, teeth gnashing together. This had no effect on Gamzee. He often called it “Getting his toddler on,” after hearing his older brother cite the behavior as something he did often as a toddler. Gamzee only laughed and walked away.  
                 
                It started freshman year, with the debate unit in English.  
                Not really debate, but if the teacher dared to call it public speaking, many fits would be thrown. Besides, letting high schoolers argue for two weeks sedated them for the rest of the year. Friendships were made. Friendships were ruined.  
                She happened to be the opposing team’s captain. He was the captain of his team, after so maturely “calling” the position. He set other people in charge of researching and formulating arguments. He presided over them and made sure they didn’t screw anything up.  
                She worked with her team to research past debates on the subject. She looked up the finer points of the arguments, pondering over them and pulling people in to think of rebuttals. She coached them to take notes on the arguments and while they were speaking, to look up rebuttals. One person was assigned to fact check. Overall, she was a much better leader.  
                The day of the debate rolled around. He didn’t remember what it was about, only the events. They opened up their stances, why it was better, why the other side was wrong. Every person on her team was permitted to speak; he was the only speaker on their team.  
                While he was making his arguments, she interrupted to question the logic of it. She didn’t see it. He fumbled to connect the dots, to try and explain- someone on his team volunteered to explain but he hushed them, intent on proving her wrong himself. Long story short- he didn’t. They lost the debate. She won and reveled in her victory.  
                He was smitten.  
                She was smart, logical, and had the gall to speak up to him. She proved him wrong using his own argument. He was convinced she was amazing.  
                As soon as he could, he’d ask her out. They’d fall in love and go to the same university. She’d major in prelaw, he’d major in fuck he didn’t even know, and they’d graduate and that night he’d propose and they- and they’d get married. It’d be like the shitty romance novels. And movies. And shitty pop songs. The holy trinity of shit.  
  
                He walked into school the next morning rubbing his eyes. Clutching a coffee in his hand, he meandered down the hallway and to his locker. First story locker had many perks; being so far away from the junior class homerooms was not one of them. He chugged down the dregs and tossed the cup in a trashcan. Yawning again, he sided over to his locker. Twenty four, sixty seven, two. Bam. He opened his locker and took out his morning books. Biology, English, Algebra…  
                He looked down the hallway. He always got to school early, so barely anyone was there. Just people serving their detentions, people who need to get work done, or people like him. No one he was particularly close to was there; Gamzee didn’t care about his detentions and Sollux preferred to sleep in.  
                He shut his locker and walked upstairs. Turning the corner, he stopped in his tracks. There she was. Early.  
                She was putting books in her locker, and taking some out. He idly remembered when she was blinded; he remembered when she was cured. It was almost a miracle. Rumors circulated that she wasn’t happy about it. Her cane was left at home. She insisted on wearing those glasses however.  
                He walked down the hallway, intent on not making a fool of himself. She was just a fucking girl, after all. No reason to get his dick in a twist. A few feet past her, however, he tripped. His shoelaces were undone or it was some sign they were meant to be together. His books spilled everywhere.  
                “Smooth move, Vantas,” she snorted, walking over. Kneeling down, she picked up his books and handed them to him. He didn’t take them. Instead, he gawked at her hands like some third grader in love with the assistant teacher. She shook them. He nodded, sitting up and muttering something about new legs. She threw her head back and laughed. The cackle! Most people couldn’t stand it. He adored it.  
                “Pretty funny. Pretty funny.” She put the books in his hands and walked back to her locker. He blinked a few times and stood up, continuing on his way.  
                She smelled vaguely like cherry blossoms.


	2. In Which Gamzee Fucks Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title says it all.

                2x+3y over 16x is greater than or equal to… fuck, he didn’t know. Biting the eraser on his pencil, he leaned back and stared at the board blankly. Some other student got the answer right. The teacher nodded, satisfied that he wasn’t the only one in the class who knew what was going on. Karkat sighed and scribbled down the correct answer in his notebook. He didn’t see the point of all this, but maybe he’d decipher it later and maybe get the homework right? Hopefully he’d pass the class on luck alone.  
                The homework was passed out, the class began working in something that could pass as silence, and he scribbled in his notebook. Muttering. All around him, muttering. He couldn’t concentrate with this drabble going on.  
                The bell rang. He stood up, gathered his books and dashed out the door. Biology. Maybe he’d ask her today. His stomach soared with the possibility.  
                He plopped down in his seat and looked across the room. There he was, alone. No Terezi in sight. He sighed, looking to the door for a second. Only a second. Nothing more than a second, lest someone think he was looking for someone. Not that he was.  
                Minutes later, passing period ended and roll was called. She had come into the classroom—when you want to be a lawyer, you can’t skip class. Gamzee had no ambition, so he did it all the time.  
                A packet was passed out; they were starting the unit lab on genetics. He read over the packet while the teacher blabbed on about genotypes and phenotypes, and Karkat realized too late that it was a partnered assignment. Before he could even look over to Gamzee, he was partnered up with Terezi. Anger flashed through him before he realized this would mean there was no fucking excuse now—with a fifty-five minute class, he would have plenty of time to ask her. Yes! He didn’t care who he was partnered up with. All that mattered was that he would finally get his answer.  
                The teacher showed them how to take cheek swabs. His partner insisted on doing him first. While she carefully swabbed his cheek, he looked over to them. Terezi was carefully cradling Gamzee’s chin, holding his mouth open. Her lips were slightly parted as she carefully, so carefully swabbed his cheek. She collected her sample and held onto his chin for another moment before smiling and turning to her table.  
                Fingers snapping in his face. He blinked and came back to Earth. His partner held out the swab expectantly.  
                He sighed and told her to open up.  
  
                “Gamzee—did you talk to her? At all?”  
                “I did, I did,” he said, pouring Coke into his Sprite. He claimed it was delicious. Karkat was dubious, and willingly knocked it before he dared try it. He could feel his heart launch into his throat.  
                “And? What’d she say?”  
                “She said she wanted to talk after school. Said she’d meet with me.”  
                He leaned back in his chair, French fry falling from his hand. He smiled and patted his back.  
                “Gamzee, you truly are a miracle worker.”  
                “I try, my brother. I try.”  
  
                Friday. That means it was the weekend. And the weekend meant plenty of time to do laundry.  
                Which meant he needed to get his gym clothes out of his locker.  
                He whistled as he walked down the hallway. He’d text Gamzee after school, for sure. He needed to know what was going on, what she said. Even if it was over something stupid, surely Gamzee would remember and ask her about her feelings. For anyone. Play it cool, Makara. Don’t get distracted. Don’t single Karkat out.  
                He opened the door and walked in. God, it stank. Pack twenty boys in here in one period, make them sweat, and turn them loose in a contained area for all of five minutes—while half of them have no idea what deodorant is, or that cologne is not the equivalent of a shower—and the smell would stay. It was embedded in the tile. In the lockers.  
                His locker was 822. Where he came in was in the eight-hundreds. Huge fucking school. He walked backwards, to the eight-fifties, eight-forties, eight-thirties—  
                There was Gamzee. And there was—Terezi. Karkat stood there, jaw dropped. He watched as Terezi backed him against a locker, as Gamzee opened his mouth and kissed her fully on the lips—he could see her tug on his lip with her teeth, hear him grunt, see his fists ball in her shirt—watch her hand—  
                Right near his locker. He couldn’t go down there. He wouldn’t.  
                It was too much. Too fucking much. He backed up, slowly, and did a one-eighty. He broke out in a run. It took him only a moment before he was out in the hallway, pacing up and down, fists balled in his hair. Fuck. Fucking shit, fucking hell--  
                His best friend—and his—his crush. Gamzee knew, Gamzee knew how he felt. And he—he felt the same. For her. Or did he? Maybe—no, he was clearly enjoying himself. He turned back the other way, trying desperately to think of something, anything, an excuse for Gamzee to—  
                There was none.  
                He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. His hands dropped to his sides. Leaning his head back, his breath came in shallow bursts. His throat was closing up, it was burning. His eyes stung. No, no, no, no. He would not fucking cry in the school, where anyone would see.  
                His breath hitched. Fuck, he was about to.  
                “Karkat?”  
                He opened his eyes, hastily wiping his nose. He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly. Oh. It was her. What was her name?  
                “Yeah?”  
                “Are you- are you alright?” she asked, brow furrowed. She took a step forward. He cleared his throat again, nodding.  
                “Yeah, yeah. I’m just fine. Just fine. Why do you ask?” He blinked again. She looked at him for a moment more, then shook her head.  
                “I don’t know. I thought you might have been crying. Oh well.”  
                He softly exhaled. Fucking Nepeta. His brother told him the Leijons were more in-tune with how people felt than other people might be. He hadn’t experienced this first hand—not until now.  
                “Not me. I don’t cry,” he said, crossing his arms. She smiled and snorted, shaking her head. Her mouth opened--  
                “What are you doing here after school?” he asked. She blinked once, twice, before answering.  
                “Oh, my friend Equius—he’s on the Robotics team, and he’s also my ride home. But they’re practicing late—“  
                “I have a car. Do you want me to take you home?” he found himself saying. She blinked again, then nodded.  
                “Yeah, if you don’t mind? I can pay fur- for gas, if—“  
                “Let me do a good deed,” he said, beginning to walk down the hallway, in the opposite direction of where the locker rooms were. She jogged up next to him.  
                “Okay, no gas money. Thanks, though.”  
                “No problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting! I could say it was because of the snow day today and I wrote a lot, or I could be honest and say I felt like posting two chapters. I felt slightly bad about the Katnep lead on and the hardcore Karezi in the first chapter. I don't like Karezi in my Katnep fics, how DARE I do what I hate!


	3. Karkat Has a Plan

He walked across the parking lot, mostly empty, and to his car. A little compact, older than dirt, a muted gray color. She walked over to the passenger door; he told her to wait, that it had to be opened from the inside. He unlocked his door and sat in his seat, leaning over awkwardly to open her door. She sat down, pulling out her phone and closing her door. She hastily said she was texting Equius. He closed his door and started up the car.  
                The ride was silent as they escaped the parking lot. She cleared her throat.  
                “So, do you not have any other rides?” he asked, turning a corner. She bit her lip.  
                “I have a few friends, but they had to stay after, or take the bus. Normally I have a car, but—“  
                “Why not ask them for a ride home?”  
                “They all had to stay after, or were on the bus. The bus doesn’t go near my house. I live in the middle of nowhere,” she explained. “Equius has robotics, Tavros takes the bus, Terezi—“  
                At the mention of her name, he winced. The pain was still fresh in his heart.  
                “—a meeting, said she needs to tutor him for volunteer hours. It looks good on college applications.”  
                He nodded. Signaling for another turn and waiting, he drummed on the steering wheel. She reached for the radio; he said it was broken. She nodded, hands going back to her lap.  
                “Are you close to Terezi?” he ventured, figuring if he probably wasn’t going to talk to Gamzee all weekend, the bastard, maybe he could get the information out of Nepeta.  
                She thought about it for a moment. As he was going down the street, trying to get out of downtown, she answered with a small yes.  
                “Yes. I mean, normally. We’ve been friends since elementary school. But lately…” He glanced over. She was gnawing on her lip. “We’ve grown a little apart. She’s so intent on getting into a school with a good law program. I understand wanting to get into a good school, don’t get me wrong—but there’s just a line, you know? And she’s been going on and on about this boy—“  
                “Who?” he asked, jolting a little too hard on the brakes. She lurched forward, saved by the seatbelt, squeaking a little. He felt bad for a moment, before remembering what she said before.  
                “Some stoner kid—Gamzee. Do you know him? Oh, of course you do—I’ve seen you eating with him at lunch,” she said, shaking her head and looking out the window. Karkat felt his stomach drop into his seat. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—fucking shit.  
                He turned onto the road, fingers gripping the steering wheel with a little too much force. She whispered if he’s okay, he tersely replied he’s fine. She softly said okay, then tells him to head on Greenville Road and turn left at the gas station. He nodded.  
                She did like Gamzee. But surely he didn’t know. Gamzee was a lot of things, but he was not one thing—a bullshitter. If he knew, he would have told Karkat. That’s how it worked. Gamzee looked out for his friends. He didn’t let them—down.  
                He was stopped by another traffic light—how many fucking lights were there in this city? He sighed and leaned against his door, fingers running through his hair. He eyed the gas station. He needed a drink.  
                When they got to the gas station, he asked her if she wanted anything. She said she was fine, but reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. She handed him a five and said to get something to snack on. Normally he would have rejected it, shoved it back into her hand, but how she said it caused him to nod his head and say he would. He walked inside and straight to the coffee machine. He poured a to-go cup and grabbed a bag of cookies. The wrapping said it was made fresh daily, but he sincerely doubted it was still fresh at almost four in the afternoon. He handed the cashier the five, took his change—no, her change, and walked back out.  
                He slipped into his car. She was shooting off another text. She quickly closed her phone and shook her head at his outstretched hand. “You keep it,” she said. Her phone went into her bag, buzzing.  
                Karkat pocketed the change and turned the car back on—she must have turned it off, he kept it on so it’d be cool—and pulled out. He asked where he went from here—she listed off the directions for the next few blocks. He nodded.  
                She was still gnawing on her lip. He asked if she was alright. She nodded, wiping her nose on her sleeve. He winced and wordlessly handed her a napkin from the second cupholder. Fast food collectables. She murmured thanks and blew her nose.  
                Karkat shakily inhaled. He gripped his coffee with one hand and took a sip. It tasted like shit, but it’d keep him awake for a few more hours. Nepeta ignored the buzzing in her bag.  
                He saw his best friend making out with his crush. That much was fact. He was sitting in his car with her best friend—or at least a close friend. Gamzee surely thought she was attractive—why else would you make out with someone? Was it staged so Karkat would take a hint? No, the odds of him coming in after school were slim to none. He only remembered his gym clothes because he thought of the laundry pile growing by his door.  
                He could feel the sadness leaving and the anger setting in. He felt like an idiot—of course she wouldn’t like him. If she did, she would have made a move. That’s how Terezi operated, and everyone knew that. His dreams of romance were shattered. She simply did not give a shit about him.  
                His teeth gnashed together. He turned the corner smoothly, however, not wanting to alert Nepeta to his growing anger. Play it cool.  
                How could he get back at Terezi? Make out with Gamzee? One, fuck no. Two, he didn’t even know if they were a thing. Three, fuck no, and four, it probably wouldn’t accomplish anything.  
                He thought of Terezi’s other friends. He thought of ways to prank her—he had a friend—no, the backlash from pranking the (former) blind kid would prove almost fatal. And she would probably see it ahead of time, anyway. The females in his life, whether or not they gave a shit about him, were very intuitive.  
                Terezi’s friends… Ampora. No. Vriska. No, no fucking way. He couldn’t stand her. Come to think of it, he couldn’t stand a lot of her friends. Except Nepeta; but he barely knew her. He knew she had a crush on him in middle school, but that was about it. So far though, Nepeta was proving bearable.  
                Alright, so his plan of attack would involve Nepeta. But how… jealousy. Jealousy had to play a role. The only problem was, Terezi liked neither Nepeta nor him. How would this work?  
                He could… he could prove he was viable boyfriend material. He would ask her on a date—no, she didn’t like him. She liked Gamzee. He had to prove himself in her line of sight. And to do that—he would take one of her friends out on a date. He would take Nepeta out on a date. He was. A. Genius.  
                “Hey Nepeta?” he asked, turning onto what she said was her road. Wow, she really lived in the middle of nowhere. She turned her head, eyebrows raised.  
                “Do you want to go out on a date?” he asked. Her eyes widened; her cheeks burned bright pink. She blinked a few times and asked him to repeat the question.  
                “Do you want to go out tonight?” he asked again. She bit her lip and nodded. He asked if she wanted to see a movie, get dinner—she said a movie was fine, she’d buy the snacks. He nodded.  
                “I have to go home and see what’s showing, and at what time—you have internet, right?” She nodded again. “Look up what’s playing and tell me what sounds good. Here—“ he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. When they were safely in her driveway, he took her hand and scribbled down his number onto the palm of her hand. “Text me later, okay? And what time you have to be home.” He put the pen back into his pocket. She nodded, cheeks still pink, and fumbled with the door.  
                “O-okay, I’ll see you then? Whenever?” She managed to open the door and tried to walk out. She was buckled in still. She unbuckled herself and stepped out. He reached over and pulled the door shut—and for good measure, he winked at her. Pink passed into red territory, and she walked backwards into her house.  
                He pulled out and began the drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the double posting! That's about it. See you guys Sunday!


	4. In Which Plans Are Made And Executed

“Hey, Karkat?”  
                He read the text, from the unfamiliar number, and knew it was Nepeta almost immediately. One, no one else had his number. Two, he was expecting a text from an unfamiliar number. Fucking Sherlock Holmes, right?  
                He added her into his contacts and replied, “Yeah?” Sliding his phone shut, he shot back a message to Sollux, leaning back in his seat. His phone buzzed.  
                “Phew, I didn’t know if it was actually your number.”  
                He couldn’t help but smirk and shake his head. “I’m not that much of an asshole. Find a movie?”  
                He set his phone back on his desk and stood up. He had to get his laundry—minus gym uniform—from the dryer. When he came back, there was another text.  
                “Silver Linings Playbook looks REALLY good.”  
                He had heard of Silver Linings Playbook; romantic comedy featuring Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper. Two people with mental illness. Kiss kiss, fall in love. Et cetera et cetera.  
                “It’s showing at 7:30 and 9:45. How late can you be out?”  
                He waited for the reply. And waited. She finally replied, “I can be out as late as I want. Weekend, you know?”  
                “Okay, 9:45 showing? Do I pick you up? Where do you want dinner?”  
                “I have a ride there. I don’t really care where dinner is. See you at 7??”  
                “See you at Fazoli’s at 7.”  
                He smiled and stood. He needed to shower.

                He pulled into the Fazoli’s parking lot. In a romance novel, he’d take her to an actual Italian restaurant. But this was not a romance novel, highlighted by his lack of luck in the romance department and doubly highlighted by his lack of a seemingly endless wallet. Getting out, he shook his hair and strode to the door. The inside was pleasantly warm and smelled vaguely of garlic.  
                Sure enough, standing there was Nepeta. Waiting on him. She smiled and gave a little wave; he walked up next to her, grinning. “Decided on what you want?”  
                She nodded. “I have money for my meal.” He rolled his eyes.  
                “I’ll pay for the meal. It’s a date,” he said. He looked at the menu, eyes scanning. He decided on something and motioned for her to order.  
                “I’d like the- baked spaghetti? With extra breadsticks please,” she said. “And a medium drink.” The cashier nodded and handed her a cup. He walked up next to her and ordered his meal, two slices of pepperoni pizza with extra breadsticks, and a drink. Shit was like crack for his stomach. She listed off the total and he paid; thankfully he remembered to go to the bank beforehand.  
                They were handed a number and his cup; he went to pick out a table while she got a drink. As she was walking over he was heading to the machines; Cherry Coke with no ice. He walked back to their booth and sat down.  
                She sipped from her drink delicately. He chugged his down. “Why does your family not care when you come home?” he asked. The question gnawed at him as he showered. A strange boy, a date, and no curfew. It was all so… very strange.  
                “Oh, my family’s out of town this weekend. Equius is staying with me,” she said, pulling her hair behind her ears. His eyebrows shot up.  
                “And Equius didn’t care? Isn’t he a little—“  
                “Before you finish that sentence—no, he’s not overprotective. He’s relaxed more. I can take care of myself,” she said, gnawing on her straw. “He hasn’t been an asshole like that since middle school. We’ve all changed a lot.”  
                He nodded, one hand on his cup. The other was on the table. He could see her eyes dancing back and forth from her cup to his hand. He shrugged at her; one hand was a hair away from his in the next moment, not daring to touch it. He sighed; their food was brought over, steaming fresh with a mountain of breadsticks. He nodded thanks, taking his hands away to adorn his pizza with parmesan cheese and to bite into a breadstick.  
                She took her hand away a moment too late, looking down, before stirring her bowl of pasta and adding cheese and crushed red pepper. His eyebrow quirked when she added it; he’s never tried it, having never been one for spicy food. She quirked an eyebrow in return.  
                “What? Is Karkat afraid of a little heat?” she asked, re-stirring her pasta and taking a bite. He shook his head, biting into his pizza.  
                “Me? Nah—is jus’ a liddle weird,” he said. She grinned and sipped on her drink. He rolled his eyes, nodding to the shaker by her side. “Give it to me,” he said. She smirked and handed it to him.  
                He turned it upside down and began shaking. And shaking. Maybe he shook it a little too much; he had something to prove and damn it, he was going to prove it. He smirked at her and took a bite. Promptly, his mouth caught on fire. His eyes widened; he couldn’t spit the food back out because fuck he was on a date and he reached for his cup. It was. Empty. It was fucking empty! How the fuck--  
                Nepeta, meanwhile, was laughing into her fist, clearly enjoying his show. He reached for her drink; she tried to warn him, it was unsweet tea but he didn’t hear her and he looked twice as disgusted as before. She took his glass and ran to get him more; what did he drink? Coke? She filled his cup with ice before filling it with Coke and ran back. He took it and drank it; the ice hit his teeth and _shit_ it was cold. So cold. He slammed the cup back down and panted. She offered up a small smile.  
                “Sorry? But they say it’s spicy for a reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're finally on their date. Phew. If you haven't seen Silver Lining's Playbook, I implore you to watch it. I loved it. I've guesstimated how many chapters are left, depending on how I think it's going more could be added or taken away. Right now I guess I'm finished with chapter 12...? Anyway, that's all for today since I didn't screw up last time.


	5. In Which They See The Movie

                He leaned back in his seat, sighing. Third glass of Cherry Coke, after her one glass of regular Coke, and there was still a distinct burning in the back of his throat. The rest of the meal had been pleasant, and spice-free. She smirked every once in a while; his hand had not returned to the table.  
                They discussed a few things during the meal, like school, classes, their friends. He learned more about Equius, and it turns out he was _not_ an asshole like everyone thought. Shocker.  
                She chewed on an ice cube distractedly. He checked his phone—they had a full hour before they were supposed to be at the movie. However, he did not think she was enjoying sitting in a faux Italian restaurant. So he stood up, saying they’d get their tickets early and walk around the mall. She nodded, getting her jacket. Her normally baggy clothes had been replaced, at least for tonight, by things more fitting. Fancy clothes, he assumed. She followed him out the door and into the cool evening.  
                They went through the normal ordeal of getting into his car, and they were off in the direction of the theater. It was a short drive, and in a few moments they were in the parking lot.  
                They walked in through a side entrance, passing displays for the various stores, people packing up their kiosks for the night. They walked, arms touching, to the ticket window.  
                “Can I get two for Silver Lining’s Playbook?” he asked, reaching for his wallet. The lady shook her head.  
                “Sold out for tonight. Sorry,” she said, stifling a yawn. His shoulders slouched; Nepeta dragged him aside, nodding to the lady. He leaned against a poster, head against the wall.  
                “What now?” he asked. She bit her lip, pacing in front of him. Her fingers snapped.  
                “I got it!” she said. She took his arm and dragged him back across the mall, to the entrance they took in. Confused, he asked her several times what was going on, but she just kept walking. When they were outside and halfway to the car, she asked him for his keys. His eyebrows shot up.  
                “To my car?!”  
                “No, to your house. Yes, to your car! I know a theater we can go to,” she said, holding out her hands. He reached into his pocket and placed them in her hands. She unlocked the door, slipped inside, and opened up the passenger door.  
                Adjusting the mirrors, she bit her tongue between her lips. He buckled up, looking over at her. She scooted her seat up, adjusted the rearview mirror one more time, and started the car.  
                “Where is this theater? Because if this one is sold out—“  
                “People don’t go to this one. It’s sort of—underground I guess? Ugh, that sounds so lame, but it is. I think they only stay open beclaws- because Ampurra pays fur it to be. Gosh, sorry,” she said, blushing and backing out. “The puns come out again when I’m excited. The weaboo nefur leaves, it only goes dormant.”  
                “Weaboo?” he asked, hands gripping the sides of the seat. She nodded, signaling her turn. He only became more confused. “What’s a—“  
                “Either you can relax and I talk, or you sit like you need to poop and I hush up,” she said, smoothly turning the corner. He released his grip and leaned back in his seat. She grinned, slowing at a stoplight.  
                “Remember in middle school, how I used cat puns all the time, wore that hat, had that furricking tail?” she asked, cheeks glowing brighter. He nodded. “Well, I was going through a phase? Where I wanted to be a cat?” she said, sentences lilting at the end. “It’s mortifying in retrospect. How could I have acted like that?” She shrugged, taking off again. “But I guess you grow from stuff like that. Everyone knows I’ve changed—Vriska still teases me about it though. But she’s a bitch,” she added, signaling for a turn. “We’re on eighth street, right?”  
                He nodded. She grinned and turned. “Good. We’re almost there, relax,” she said. “I’m not gonna total your car. It sucks, believe me, I know,” she muttered.  
                “How did your car get totaled?” he asked. A few weeks ago, it had been the talk of the school. A car totaled in the parking lot after school. Nothing like it had happened before. She had been inside at the time, but the fact still stood: she was without car.  
                “Some asshole didn’t watch where he was going, rammed into my car, and that was the end of poor sweet Pounce,” she sighed. She glanced over at him, giggling at his look. “I named my car; what, you didn’t?”  
                He shook his head. “The closest thing it has to a name is Shitstain. This truly is a shitty car,” he said. She rolled her eyes, slowing down and looking around.  
                “We’ll come up with a name after the movie. I hope they have one more showing—they do!” she exclaimed, quickly taking a spot in the front. She turned the car off and tossed the keys into his lap. Getting out, she stretched and walked to the front of his car. He fumbled with the door, getting his wallet out and his keys in. She watched in amusement.  
                “They have a showing at nine-thirty- we still have half an hour,” she said, walking with him. They went up to the ticket window. He requested two tickets for Silver Linings and was pleased to find out that the tickets were, well, cheap. He eagerly handed over the ten dollars and took the two tickets.  
                “The prices are so cheap beclaws they charge out the ass fur snacks. But if the ticket prices are cheap, no one complains. And most people buy snacks out of loyalty,” she said, stepping into the overly warm atrium. She bit her lip and looked over the menu. “I like snacking on stuff during movies; you want anything?”  
                He nodded, getting into his wallet and handing her a bill. She waved him off, walking up to the counter and ordering. A few moments later, she was handed a bucket of popcorn, two boxes of candy, and two large drinks. She said thanks and nodded him over. “Help me out here.”  
                He walked over, getting the popcorn and his drink. His eyes widened. She shrugged. “Equius gave me some money; relax, we’re on a date,” she said, sipping on her drink. She held the door open for him, and they stepped into the dim lighting of the theater.  
                Compared to the mall’s theater, this one was small. It was half-full, the seats were worn out—a few had stuffing exposed in places—but it was distinctly comfortable. Everything was old and worn-in; there was no harsh smell of cleaners on the seats, just the smell of popcorn. People chatted between each other; an old couple sipped their drinks, a small bag of popcorn between them. His heart warmed. She grinned and reached into the bucket for a handful of popcorn.  
                “How have I never heard of this place before?” he asked. She munched on her popcorn; when she was done, she sipped her drink.  
                “It’s old, so people think it’s dirty. It only has one screen, so people think it’s lame. The snacks are more expensive than even the mall’s, so people think it’s a scam. But think if this place had been full. What would we have done?” she asked, tilting her head back and emptying her palm. He shrugged, taking a handful of popcorn.  
                “I don’t know—I probably would have taken you home.” Her grin faltered for a second; he felt bad. “I mean, I didn’t have a backup plan. What would you have wanted to do?”  
                She shrugged. “We could have seen another movie, I guess. But I was so intent on seeing this one. Seeing a different one _just_ came to me,” she explained. He nodded; he hadn’t thought of seeing another movie, either. “But, we’re about to see a movie we both wanted to, so it all worked out in the end. And now you know of a hidden gem.”  
                He smiled, she smiled at his smile. He looked at the old couple; she grinned and leaned up to his ear. “They’ve been coming here almost every week since they started dating. Even when she had kids, they would hire a sitter so they could escape for a few hours.” She leaned back into her seat, opening a box of candy. She handed one to him; he took it and placed it in the cupholder next to him.  
                The lights dimmed, and the previews started. Some idiotic commercial featuring humanized candy; a long and drawn out ad for the theater’s preferred brand of soft drink. A reminder to turn all cell phones off, and trailers for the movies in the coming year.  
                Something he never quite understood was why, when he went to see movies about romance, was why so many horror and action movies were advertised. Generally the people who went and saw romantic films were either people on dates, or people who were bitter and alone like him. The last thing they wanted was to see explosives and sweaty men throw a grenade into a fire.  
                Bitter and alone. He wasn’t alone right now. He smirked at the thought before wiping his face clean.  
                Nepeta leaned over and made a comment on one of the few trailers for a romance film: “This is the same plot as _The Notebook_ , I can already tell.” She leaned back over as his head whipped around. She had seen that movie? Alright, it wasn’t a romantic comedy, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy it and cry like the sucker he knew he was. She smirked; he turned back to the screen.  
                The screen dimmed as the music faded out for the last trailer. The movie was starting. Alright, alright. This was something he could get into.  
                He was captivated by the movie. Normally he would look over every so often to see if whoever he was watching it with was enjoying it; this time, he didn’t give a fuck if she was enjoying it or not. He was, and that’s all that mattered. Why did he care so much before? He didn’t know.

At one point, he leaned forward in his chair; Pat was reading this book, and he was into it. Karkat grabbed his soda and sipped, then full-out chugged. This was intense, this was--  
                _He threw the book out the fucking window._ Holy shit—Cherry Coke sprayed out of his nose and mouth, coating the seat in front of him. Mercifully, it was empty. However, Nepeta was laughing more loudly at Karkat than at the scene that just unfolded. The people next to them, a few seats down either way, didn’t understand why she was still laughing almost five minutes later. He’d be mortified, if he hadn’t related so fucking much to that _one moment--  
                _ “It’s okay Karkat, I related to it, too,” she whispered in his ear. His ear burned; he reached up and tugged at it absentmindedly. She handed him a napkin; he wiped his mouth.  
                A few minutes later, his arm was warmer. He looked down; oh. Her arm was next to his. Not even subtly asking for the armrest; this was intentional. He didn’t move his arm; his finger twitched, brushing hers. Her finger twitched, and then rested on top of his. His stomach fluttered.  
                “I’m just the crazy _slut_ with a dead husband!” she shouted on-screen. What was her name? Tiffany. God, he was bad with names tonight. He looked back to the movie. He slowly moved his hand to cover hers, then wrapped his fingers between hers. Peeking out of the corner of his eye, he could see her smirk and blush.  
                “ _Fuck you!”_ Tiffany shouted on-screen. Karkat jumped, squeezing her hand. The dishes and cups on their table went to the floor. Shit—he fucked up. This Pat guy fucked up. Tiffany was pissed. She stormed out of the café, leaving everyone astonished.  
                As horribly as he thought the first part of their date went, at least Nepeta didn’t do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First half of a double posting since I missed yesterday... the second half of which will come on Valentine's Day! Woohoo, a cheesy holiday for a cheesy fanfiction. I wanted to do something like that, but didn't want to post three chapters. Middle ground.


	6. In Which They Hold Hands

Almost two hours later, his hand was sweaty, and a little numb, but he didn’t mind. She didn’t either. The lights came up, and everyone around them stood and began to walk out. Not many paid any mind to them; a few cast worried glances, having remembered the soda fiasco. The old couple stood up and left, arm-in-arm.  
                “Wow,” she breathed. He nodded, collecting their trash with one hand.  
                “Yeah, that movie was _awesome._ I’m really glad you remembered this place.”  
                She nodded, still as a statue in her seat. He reached around her to pick up her cup. All of it in the bucket, he stood up, urging her up as well.  
                “Come on, come on. Movie’s over; let’s go.”  
                She nodded and stood; she clutched her stomach with her free hand, blushing. “Actually—we have to stop somewhere. I’m starving—please? My treat,” she said. His eyes widened.  
                “We just had dinner a few hours ago—and you ate most of the snacks! Are you fucking serious?” She rolled her eyes.  
                “Yeah yeah, bottomless pit. Let me hear it. Come on, I want McDonalds,” she said, tugging him along. He shook his head, following her out.  
                He gingerly placed their trash on top of the mountain, casting the employee standing next to it a remorseful glance. He stared ahead, gaze blank. Poor dude must be tired. Tired of seeing the same movie five times today, tired of cleaning up after inconsiderate jerks like him. They walked hand-in-hand to the car and stood in front of the hood.  
                “I need you to let go now,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. She let go a few seconds later, then went to stand at her door. He got in, let her in, started the car up, and drove one-handed. Her hands were in her lap; a moment later she was holding his hand again. He blushed, looking ahead.  
                “Any McDonald’s you prefer?” he asked, stopped by a train. He casually brushed his thumb across her knuckles. She shook her head.  
                Silence. He cleared his throat. “So, at least you didn’t clear the table at Fazoli’s?” he ventured. She snorted, covering her mouth with one hand.  
                “I would nefur do that to you,” she said. He laughed. “I mean it!” she protested as the train finally passed. He put the car back into drive and began to accelerate.  
                “You say that now, but I can be a real asshole—“  
                Whatever he had just tried to tell her was met with a finger to his lips. She retracted her finger a moment later, cheeks red and clearing her throat.  
                “You aren’t an asshole, Karkat. I mean it,” she whispered. He nodded, lips burning, cheeks burning, everything burning.  
                “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”  
                He turned the corner, heart oddly light, and continued onward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's become hectic, so sorry for straying from the update schedule! However I will not repent for my actions due to the fact I'm trying to cut myself some slack. Expect an update tomorrow and Wednesday like normal.


	7. In Which They Eat Again

He pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot, debating going in versus drive-through. He didn’t want to sit down for another meal; drive through it was.  
                “Welcome to McDonald’s, can I interest you in a Big Mac Wrap?” the voice asked. Karkat’s eyebrows shot up.  
                “Holy shit- Sollux? You’re working tonight?” The voice on the intercom sighed.  
                “Kk, can you place an order?”  
                “Hold on asshole, I’m looking over my options,” he responded, mocking his lisp. The sigh in response indicated he caught that; he looked over the menu and looked at her. “What do you want?”  
                She bit her lip. “I want… two Happy Meals and a large tea. Unsweet. And an ice cream.”  
                “Are your ice cream machines still on?” Karkat asked. This McDonald’s was notorious for no ice cream past eight. Silence. A moment later, Sollux responded:  
                “Our ice cream machines have been off for the past three hours, I’m sorry to say. May I interest you in anything else?” he asked.  
                “Nah; I’ll take two Happy Meals, a quarter pounder with no onion, a large unsweet tea, and a medium Coke, no ice. Oh, and Ronald McDonald’s ass on a silver platter.  
                “That’ll be a nice fuck you at window two,” he responded. Karkat laughed and drove up. First window was closed. Second window was open. Sure enough, there was Sollux. Karkat leaned up to get into his wallet right as Nepeta handed him fifteen dollars and—  
                “Holy shit Kk.”  
                “I know, it’s almost midnight and I’m at McDonald’s, big fucking shock.” He took her money and handed it over. Sollux took it, eyes still wide. He made change and handed it to him.  
                “You didn’t tell me you had a date with Nepeta,” he said. Karkat’s cheeks flushed. Shit. She was in his car, and holding his hand. No way to play it off. Shrugging, he squeezed her hand.  
                “Well, I do. Now if you excuse me,” he said, taking his bag, “I have to continue this date.” He handed the bag to Nepeta, let go of her hand long enough to get the drinks and give them to her as well, and drove off.  
                He drove aimlessly in one direction as she slurped her drink. She seemed pretty content. Pulling into the parking lot of a nearby park, he turned off the car and turned to her. She handed him his burger, and she dug into her first Happy Meal.  
                “Oohh, they gave me a boy’s toy! Look—it’s a mini Darth Vader,” she said, showing him the bobble head. “Here, you keep it.” She plunked it on his dashboard, his head bobbling in an amusing fashion. He smiled.  
                “Makes me wish I had something to give you,” he said, burger bulging out of one cheek. She blushed, nibbling on a nugget.  
                “You gave me this date. That’s plenty enough fur me,” she whispered. He gasped, choking on his food. Her eyes widened; she smacked him on the back once. His brain lurched forward and he could feel his lungs rattle in his ribcage. He blinked back tears; she was _strong._ But he wasn’t choking anymore.  
                “Sorry, that’s what my mom taught me to do,” she explained. He took a long drink.  
                “How did you get so damn strong?” he asked. She grinned as she wiped her hands together, shrugging it off.  
                “Oh, Equius used to do boxing down at the gym, and he took me along once or twice. I liked it, then I discovered other things they had there, and did pretty much all of them at one point or another.” She munched on a bundle of fries. “I never really stuck with one thing. I’d confuse rules and fighting styles and wind up in trouble.”  
                His mouth was hanging open. Holy shit. He shook his head, nodding and biting into the remaining half of his burger. She grinned, pocketing the apple slices.  
                “I don’t look like it, but I could probably take him on in a fight and win. I’m stronger than I look—and even-tempered.”  
                “I thought you said he changed since middle school?”  
                “He has changed—he isn’t so overbearing, he can tolerate people ‘below his class,’ but he still has a wicked temper,” she explained, opening the other box. Another Darth Vader. She put it back, reaching for her drink.  
                He nodded, balling up his wrapper and putting it in the bag. He grabbed his drink and slurped. She put her box back in the bag and drank the remaining part of her drink.  
                “I’ll warm it up tomorrow,” she said. He shrugged, reaching to turn the car back on. She bit her lip. He looked at her inquisitively.  
                “Nothing; I’ve just had so much fun.” Funny how he didn’t even need to ask what was wrong. He leaned back in his seat, reaching for her hand.  
                “But it’s almost one in the morning, and I’d hate fur you to be crabby tomorrow,” she teased. He smiled, thumb trailing over her knuckles.  
                “I’m always crabby anyway. Do you want to go home?”  
                “Do you want the date to end?”  
                “I asked first,” he said. She rolled her eyes.  
                “Outstanding logic. If you- shit,” she said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out her phone and turned it on. “Shit shit shit shit shit.”  
                “What?” he asked, retracting his hand. She was holding her phone with both hands, staring at the screen. As soon as it was fully loaded, she dialed and waited.  
                “Equius? Yeah, it’s me. Yeah, I know. Hush. Stop. No, I’ll be home soon. Sorry,” she said, hanging up. Sighing, she leaned back in her seat.  
                “Do you have to go home now?” he asked. She nodded.  
                “Unfortunately. He’s pretty mad I didn’t let him know I’d be out this late.”  
                “I thought you said he relaxed,” he said, turning the car back on. She sighed, shaking her head.  
                “He’s just nervous. Barely knows you, suddenly you want to take me out on a date…” she trailed off, looking out the window. He nods.  
                “It was sort of out of the blue. But I’m glad I did,” he said, turning. She smiled, looking over at him.  
                “I’m glad you did, too.”


	8. In Which Goodnights Are Exchanged

He pulled into her driveway and turned off the car. Sighing, he rubbed his hands on his pants. “Am I getting a stern lecture tonight, or is that for another day?”  
                She snickered, hiding her mouth in her hand. “Not tonight. It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? Besides, you have to go home and fill Sollux in with the details,” she teased, opening her door. He reached for his door, getting out and stretching. Good dates walk their dates to their door.  
                “Don’t forget your Happy Meal,” he called. She nodded, reaching in and grabbing it before closing her door.  
                “Add the rest of the trash to your collection,” she said, walking up the stairs. The porch light was on; the curtains were drawn, but he swore he saw a glint in the crack. He shivered, partly in fear, partly because he might have been a little cold.  
                “Relax, it’s not him. He’s not even here. I have a few cats,” she said, standing near the door. “Cats are mostly active at night. Hunting and stalking their prey.”               
                “Great, you have a bunch of cats that probably want to eat me,” he mused. She snickered, looking up at him.  
                “They won’t eat you,” she said. And then it got quiet.  
                “Thanks for coming out with me tonight,” he said. She nodded. “And uh—if you want to do this again—“  
                She nodded again. He cleared his throat. At this point in a movie, he’d kiss her goodnight and she’d kiss back and it’d be an endearing moment for all. But he wasn’t a character in a movie. Neither was she.  
                “How you’re still standing here is making me wonder if you’re hoping fur a kiss goodnight,” she mused, smirking.  
                “Sort of? I do, but if you don’t want to—“  
                He couldn’t finish his sentence. In one smooth move, she was on her tiptoes, her hand cupping his chin, pressing her lips to his. Her lips were surprisingly soft; his eyes widened, but before he could even register to do something else other than stand there, she was gone. Her cheeks were flushed; she giggled, hand covering her mouth.  
                Shit. She was too fucking adorable.  
                “Goodnight Karkat,” she whispered, opening her door and stepping in. He heard a few meows before the door closed. He walked back to his car, getting in and sitting there. The curtains didn’t move. He started his car and drove away.  
                  
                He got home and signed onto his computer. Sure enough, there were a few messages there.  
                TA: kk an2wer the2e me22ages  
                TA: ii know youre there 2omewhere  
                TA: kk reply to thii2 before ii kiick your teeth in

He smirked, popping his fingers.   


                CG: SORRY DUDE, I HAD A DATE.  
                TA: ii know. 2eriiou2ly, nepeta?  
                CG: SHE’S A NICE GIRL. REALLY SWEET. I THINK I’M GOING TO ASK HER OUT AGAIN.  
                TA: what the fuck  
                CG: I’D SAY DON’T KNOCK IT UNTIL YOU TRY IT, BUT SHE’D PROBABLY BREAK BOTH YOUR ARMS BEFORE YOU EVEN OPENED YOUR MOUTH  
                TA: 2he couldnt break a toothpick  
                CG: BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY SHE’S STRONG  
                TA: diid kk lo2e agaiin2t a giirl?  
                CG: NO, I ALMOST CHOKED TO DEATH ON YOUR SHITTY ASS FOOD.            
                TA: take iit up wiith the legal department, ii ju2t work the back  
                CG: I WILL, AFTER I SLEEP.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to stress in my personal life, I'm suspending twice weekly updates. Updates are now Sunday-exclusive. Sorry for the late notice, and double apologies if you checked Wednesday night and all day Sunday (aka today).


	9. Mid-work Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A note from the author concerning the fanfiction right now.

Hello guys, it's the author here. I feel like I should apologize...I've been horrible about updates. My life is chaotic right now; the stress is gone, but now I have to get a cosplay done for an upcoming convention. As such, I've had no time to do anything BUT sleep, homework, and cosplay stuff. Add that and my laptop that's acting up... writing's taken the backburner.

In addition, the inspiration has been getting harder and harder to find. I know what point I want to get to, but I don't know how to get there. What I've written so far for the upcoming chapters... it doesn't flow at all. I'm not nearly as proud of it as I am with the earlier chapters, and I want to give you guys the best stuff I can.

This weekend I have a tournament and coffee with a friend, because the weather cancelled our plans two weeks in a row, and the following week is Con Crunch Time. Then there's the convention on Saturday, and Sunday is empty. Sunday I'll be trying to write, and the following Sunday there should be an update... should being the key word. And then the following weekend I'll be in Germany.

So tl;dr-- suspending updates until March 23rd because I have no inspiration and other things to do. And March 30th I'll be in Germany, so the update after that will be in April.

Many apologies in advance, thanks for understanding. 


End file.
